


Keep Yearning For Clear Hearts

by iris_14cheonsa



Series: beyond fourth dimensional [1]
Category: EXO (Band), IU (Musician), K-pop, SHINee
Genre: F/M, Gen, fictional representations of kpop idols - otherwise face claims, includes one-shots i've done in 2015 so forgive the writing quality, unless i decide to finish any kpop wips this is completed for now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-07-12 04:46:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15987911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iris_14cheonsa/pseuds/iris_14cheonsa
Summary: No matter how much we hope, dream and beg to the skies ruling over us, reality will never play by our rules. - (fictional representations/one-shots about korean pop idols and actors/actresses)





	1. @14shyx kpop + ship preferences

**Author's Note:**

> s e t t i n g  
> can slide from yearning verse (the name for my ideal 'canon universe') to complete aus  
> -*-  
> Author's Note (09/01/2018):  
> I had been writing K-Pop fanfiction in private since early 2015 as a form of wish fulfillment, with all sorts of 'what if' situations and my own desires being injected into it. Originally I had named that desirable world of mine the /K-Universe Album/ and never showed it to anyone else, out of fear that the low quality of my writing would make others criticize and insult me.  
> But since the beloved Kim Jonghyun passed away on 18 December 2017, a member of the very first boy band I admired and advocated with all my heart from 2014, I decided to forget my fear. Even though I will never have my interpretations of Korean celebrities be the "correct" versions, I would at least like to have fictional representations of these people I admire from continents away in my writing.  
> So I present to you my writing from the past and the present.  
> Although I doubt my stories are good enough to get plagiarized, I still should let you know that if you decide to do such a thing, that makes you no better than a leeching thief who cannot think of their own stories. It's good to appreciate and comment on other people's work, but what's not cool is trying to pass off that work as yours. It's fine to be inspired. It's nice that you love something so much you want to base something off it. But if you copy something word for word, that is plain despicable. No one favours cheating, stealing and lying as qualities so please don't have them listed within your personality.

♡  _ **k-pop favourites**_

shinee | apink | iu | exo (+wu yifan, luhan, z.tao) | f(x) (+sulli) | vixx | btob | super junior | mamamoo | akdong musician | bolbbalgan4

♡ biases: snsd yoona, seohyun, jessica | super junior donghae, yesung | vixx leo.

♡ _**(k-pop) main shipping list**_

  * taemin/naeun
  * jonghyun/iu
  * onew/luna
  * key/eunji
  * minho/sulli
  * xiumin/amber
  * suho/irene
  * lay/victoria
  * baekhyun/wendy
  * chen/bomi
  * chanyeol/moon gayoung
  * d.o./krystal
  * kai/namjoo
  * sehun/hayoung
  * luhan/chorong
  * wu yifan/jessica
  * z.tao/girl he's in love with in real life
  * suga/seulgi
  * sungjae/joy
  * jungkook/yeri
  * eric nam/solar



♡ _ **(k-pop) side-ships**_

  * lay/sulli
  * kai/krystal
  * leo/eunji
  * gongmyung/jung hyeseung
  * lee seunggi/yoona




	2. @14shyx kpop + ship preferences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There are countless stars in the sky, and there's one thousand wishes and problems they'd like to dangle up there, bright and shining, for the world to see. But each night there's one wish that always concludes their prayer: please make tomorrow better than today."  
> .  
> Zitao starts finding a strong fascination in the kitchen knife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date Written: November 7 2015  
> A/N: Due to the negativity Z.Tao is facing, I tried to put myself in his shoes and then I thought maybe he thinks of just picking up the kitchen knife and ending it.  
> A dark prompt, but worth a try – maybe some anti-Tao fan will come along and realize this is what would be going on in his head.  
> For some of this, Zitao will probably sound like me. And I think the ending is rushed but this is all I can think for this.  
> The characterization is probably wrong so don't take it seriously.  
> UPDATE (19/11/2017): Since I wrote this back in 2015, when I was firmly in defense for Huang Zitao and quite biased (at least, that's how I perceive my past stance), I failed to notice some of things he probably did wrong like playing on the hopes of fans by saying that he would come back, only that he didn't. That disappointment is no longer fresh in my memory but I can still see where some of the complaints regarding him are coming from. However, I still think that, as he is a human being, he is bound to make mistakes. As long as he does not become a legitimate criminal with no sense of remorse or morality, I will remain in support of him and those who have left EXO.  
> Everyone deserves happiness, after all.  
> Also, I injected a lot of the depression I felt in 2015 into this fan fiction, so I feel as though I sealed a piece of my memories into it. I understand how depression works and I know for certain that you are certainly not alone in this. Please stay strong and healthy, I pray that life will shine its light on you.

Looking back, a lot of the laughter and smiles was a cover up for the tears that flowed down cheeks when it was thought no once could see them.

_We treat each other like family._

Or that's what was assumed in the bright sparkly days when superpowers were their trademark and nights were spent talking to his roommate. Nowadays he sleeps earlier with the manager's insistence, starts sleeping without dreams since that May. The May that reminded all of them the apparent family bond they held wasn't exactly as strong as they hoped.

When collecting a glass of water and a few packaged pieces of food he found in the cupboard, Zitao notices the knife sitting idly on the counter. The member in charge of dinner two nights ago must’ve forgotten to put it away.

He reaches out a hand to take it when his mind conjures the image of steel slicing through skin, cutting through all his organs. Zitao should be afraid but he instead feels…tempted. Curious. What _would_ it feel like to have the blade embedded in his stomach?

He's spun knives before but never pushed the weapon into another surface. Was the pain slow, agonizing, graphic as the horror movies he and Junmyeon had hated?

The bathroom door opens, a sniffle is heard, and Zitao forgets all thoughts about the knife. Scurrying back to his bedroom he closes the door, stopping when the door makes an obnoxious creak. Heart pounding, he waits in silence. A cough, a shuffle of feet, and another door closes across the hallway.

Relaxing, the crackers and bag of nachos fall to the floor as Zitao instead goes through his bedside drawers. Discovering a pocket knife he impulsively kept several months before, he pushes the blade up with a thumb.

Should he attempt it? All he has to do is simply let it slice through skin and -

_but you won't be able to stop once you do_ , the scared, intimidated side of him reminds him. _Haven't you seen how they react in horror movies? All that blood spilling out. And remember when you stubbed your toe - that was painful enough._

Suddenly scared of the item in his hand, Zitao retracts the blade and hurriedly throws it under his bed.

It was discovered shortly after Zitao packed everything to go for medical treatment, the blade rusty and beyond use.

 

 

 

 

Maybe it reflects what Zitao felt inside.

 

 

 

 

Some nights, he analyses how Korea works in entertainment. There was some unspoken rule in most record companies - wiping the slate clean and start anew when someone leaves. Idol groups were forcibly put together by the company itself, so it was almost easy, forgetting that once an extra chair had to be put at the edge of the table.

Somehow the rule never applied to Yixing.

No one was unaware of the Chinese dancer being the company favourite - even Han couldn't gain the same favour despite overwhelming popularity. Workshop in China - they set one up immediately. Injury in the neck - he spent an entire _week_ sleeping comfortably for the first time since their comeback.

It could be first suspected that the company used these to 'bribe' Yixing into staying but Yixing isn't like that. Far from spoiled, he immediately tells the manager that no, he can't break contact with Han in such a manner no one dares to question him. From the beginning, Yixing's bond with Han was strong and unbreakable, beyond the depth of being people put together by a company...kind of like he and Yifan were.

Yifan cleared the path first, letting initial responses of harsh criticism fall upon him. Zitao had never realized until he himself started to break, near the line of no return because of his stubbornness.

Zitao wishes he was understanding, kind, everything Yixing was when Yifan left first.

 

 

 

 

He just regrets everything he did and said.

 

 

 

 

 

For once he has a room all to himself.

No sounds of someone wheezing in his sleep. No sudden flaying of limbs that end up on Zitao so he can't move when using a futon.

He used to complain about those 'bonding' nights as Chanyeol tended to smack him in the face at night but now he feels empty, lonely. It's hilarious now, as he lies stomach first on the bed, to be thinking that when he was so ungrateful to what he had, to what he didn't appreciate.

Scrolling through the notifications he's received from SNS accounts, Zitao winces at some of the more vulgar language but forces himself to read each one.

_Hypocrite, liar, arrogant, childish, drama queen_ \- pretty soon Zitao thinks the dictionary would print his picture next to each of those words. Pressing the power button, he places the device screen first under his pillow and rolls back onto his back.

Another image is again played out in his mind - one where something just drives itself through his stomach and stains the blue sheets around him a lovely dark purple.

Zitao quickly shakes his head to ignore the image and rolls over to his side, blankets tucked tightly around him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

He's sometimes scared of himself.

 

 

 

 

 

Does Yixing really think of him as a friend? Zitao argues to himself again - he has no one to talk about his decisions lately - that Yixing was the type who could contact someone out of mere politeness and pity. Han was probably doing the same; the two were like twins, and Han just got along with everyone.

Even Yifan.

 

 

 

 

 

 

While he doesn't want to eat alone, he doesn't want to make friendly conversation. Choosing to break a little of his resolve for his much healthier diet, he unpacks the rice cakes he bought upon returning from the studio. Unfortunately said store makes the portions far too large; Zitao opens the top kitchen drawer.

Again he finds himself fascinated with the kitchen knife; again he wonders how it would feel to have it slice through his insides.

Holding the handle with a trembling hand, he hurriedly cuts the sticky red bean pieces into smaller sections and lets the knife land with a crash into the sink.

Gathering all the dirty dishes he can find, he piles the plates and bowl, hiding the knife out of sight.

 

 

 

Nowadays he doesn't dare to venture into the kitchen at night.

 

 

"You panda, why aren't you responding to my calls?" Han's clear voice holds a note of worry. "You're not answering my messages either, and your Instagram has nothing for the past few months. Listen, I have a schedule but I can clear some time for you. Just tell me when."

Instagram - he almost forgot about that.

Opening the app, he wonders, a finger hovering over an image the designer had sent two days ago. It's far off from the aesthetic images he's used too but he has a new hair colour. The colour's kind of like the purple dinosaur he sees on Chinese airings of kid shows.

Should he or should he not?

He doesn't want to be forgotten. But he shouldn't be noticed.

"You're going to get a lot of backlash for this," his manager warned. "So far no one's liking you for doing this soon after going to America for treatment."

He may have matured, but Zitao's immature enough to post the picture anyway.

 

 

 

It's not like things are going to be any different for him any time soon.

 

 

 

One day, out of impulse he searches up a question:  _how to remove kerosene from skin_. It isn't that difficult - Zitao has a whole lifetime supply of shampoo and facial cleanser. Plus kerosene is rather hard to obtain...well, there are a couple of containers left in the trunk of the car he's using for the music video.

_maybe i should pour kerosene on myself instead of using fake blood_ , he messages Han while getting his makeup done.

_2:12 PM_  
_hzztao_  
_it's more effective_  
_plus synthetic flames suck._  
  
_7_luhan_m_  
_don't do that zitao_  
_you know kerosene is flammable right?_  
  
_hzztao_  
_of course i do._  
_chill_  
_i was just joking_  
  
_7_luhan_m_  
_hahaha funny_  
_if you do, then i'm going to move into your house_  
_your mum's been complaining to me that you're living alone_

Zitao is still considering pouring the kerosene over his head and lighting the match when his phone alerts him twenty minutes later.

_2:32 PM_  
_7_luhan_m_  
_i gotta go_  
_have a schedule_  
_good luck <3_  
_and don't pour kerosene on yourself_  
_i'm literally two streets away from your filming sight right now_

In the end he doesn't, and lets the collared white shirt be stained with beetroot juice instead.

 

 

 

 

 

(Han still arrives at his house that night with a suitcase and forces Zitao take a bath with the homemade soap he doesn't let anyone use. While Zitao is left to let his hair be covered in bubbles, Han finds all the matches and breaks them in half. "If you so much as stink of oil I'm going to stay in this house. _Permanently_ ," he warns Zitao while pigging out on stirred fried rice in front of the television.

Zitao gets the message. Han is relaxed in nature but getting him into a snit was never pretty.

And Zitao doesn't want Han to get involved in his life.)

 

 

 

 

 

The interview is more like an interrogation, but Zitao just wants everything to be resolved. The public make assumptions of him without letting him say his side of the story.

It's like that with almost anyone who decides to drop SM first before the company sucks them dry.

The questions bring back the raw emotions of waking up to find they had one less person in the dorm. Zitao is much better in keeping his composure, his cool these days.

_Just focus on trying to keep everything inside, don't make it obvious that it's affecting you_ , Han had directed him in an unexpected phone call before the interview. _They want to make you look bad - it creates more gossip and articles. Tell what's needed and nothing more._

"If I could go back to that time, then I would support him. I don't know if he'll take me back though."

If he could go back in time like the superpower they 'gave' him for the MAMA era, he wishes that he had at least asked _Yifan_ , asked _Han_ a question that would assure them that he _cared_. He _did_ care - when he said he had been alone for four years, he meant something else.

 

 

 

He meant that in reality, maybe they weren't even friends in the first place.

 

 

 

 

_/Zitao, it's me, Junmyeon. For goodness sake, I'm not mad at you. Okay, maybe a little, but no one expected that a week of rest was enough for your ankle. We haven't been able to rest since doing the repackage album. And I've had trouble controlling you lot in times like this. I've gotten better though./_  
  
_/The best thing he did was get everyone to listen for ten minutes and that's it./_  
  
_/Jongdae, I'm in the middle of - /_  
  
_/Hey, Zitao! Hope your Korean hasn't gotten rusty because there's this really nice Star Wars exhibition here and if you decide to drop by, then you better call! I know the place like the back of my hand! And you like the Stormtroopers best, right?/_  
  
_/Zitao, you haven't called me in ages! You're only contacting Han-ge and no one else! Are you sick? You're not sick right? Are you annoyed at me? Please don't be - I'm sorry for whatever I did!/_  
  
_/You guys can call him later, I need to talk to him first. As I was saying Zitao, the point is you haven't called Yixing or anyone for the last few months. I'm wondering about how you're doing right now. All we hear from Han hyung is that you're busy and don't want him to talk about your private life./_  
  
_/Junmyeon, who are you talking to?/_  
  
_/Oops, the manager's here. Anyway, remember that we've learnt since, well, the first time we experienced this. We're here for you - if you need to talk to me in person then I'll sneak over the next time we're in China./_  
  
_/Junmyeon!/_  
  
_/I'm coming, Min hyung! I'll give a better message than this, Zitao. Promise./_

 

 

 

 

He knows better than to stir up anymore trouble. Zitao, after some contemplating, deletes the voice mail.

 

 

 

 

His schedule in London was packed - the music video shooting, the teaser images and the fashion show. He would have liked to keep his schedule for that day completely bare, but he needed to complete everything in time for the next straight flight to China.

London is said to have the best traffic of the world but it's no better than Korea or China - it's worse. Anxiously checking his watch, he realizes that he needs to wait another twenty minutes on top of being dangerously late. "I'll run there," he decides, bowing apologetically to his manager as he steps out of the car. His ankle complains after ten minutes - it isn't completely healed, which was why the choreography for _T.A.O._ was so simple - but he forces himself to continue.

Each step is agonizing; reaching the venue, the reporters and cameras eagerly taking photos of models strolling down the run way turn to him.

 

 

 

Upon returning home, Zitao finds a wrapped parcel on his doorstep.

The words _die, you ungrateful excuse of a singer_ is written with red print on white paper; upon opening the box, a collection of Swiss Army knives gleamed maliciously. No doubt this was from an anti-fan.

He shivers, and hobbles to throw the knives straight into the bin.

 

 

 

The next day, reports of him being _sassy_ and _unfashionably late_ flood the article sections. Choosing to stay in bed, he keeps a hot pack on his ankle and wakes up every now and then to cry into the pillow.

 

 

 

"Can you clear next month's schedule for me?" he asks his manager while he drives.

The manager's eye brows quirk upwards in the rear view mirror. "You know it'll give the reporters more chances to talk about you."

"I know, but...." Zitao's voice quivers. He swallows and tries again. "I need a break."

His manager sighs exasperatedly but his eyes are sympathetic. Zitao feels pitiful and curls up in his seat.

"Poor kid. He doesn't need any of this," he hears the manager mumble under his breath before he lets himself drift into a dreamland filled with shapeless forms and insults cutting through him.

 

 

 

 

 

He'll never know that Han had, the day before, asked the manager to let him rest with a promise to pay him generously for the next month.

"He's been going through a lot lately. Just make sure he gets a good meal every now and then. Wake him up after ten hours - Zitao's been sleeping a bit too much lately," Han tells him, signing a cheque.

"And remind him to call me at least once a day," he adds after an afterthought.

 

 

He loves his fans - they've supported him since day one - but he wishes they would accept what he tells them is the truth without doubting him.

It's ironic, he thinks, how SNS is supposed to be a way to express your feelings. But no one wants to know how tired he is, how he wishes the misconceptions can just stop, that he doesn't want to go to bed while barricading his bedroom door in case a sasaeng fan breaks in.

 

 

 

_I love you all_ , he writes on his latest post. _Please believe in me_.

 

 

 

He rolls up his sleeve. The skin is flawless, less light than the days of being a member of a boy band. No imperfections, just skin.

Zitao takes the blade, pricking the surface of the skin on his wrist to experiment. A small dark drop of red forms and makes patterns down his arm. He can't bother wiping them so he watches the blood trail down, down until it stains a small area of carpet.

He digs a little deeper, fingers shaky. For all his years learning how to throw punches in wushu he doesn't want to feel the pain. The tip of the knife will probably make a scar into his skin but he doesn't care.

 

 

 

He can't bring himself to care anymore.

 

 

 

Before he can continue, someone knocks at his door.

"Huang Zitao! My manager was nice enough to" - with widened eyes Zitao is rooted to the floor - "clear my schedule for today!" The door flings open. Zitao wishes he didn't drink himself drunk every time with Han because he becomes a crying idiot who can't open a door. And he told him where he keeps the spare key too.

 

 

 

Han, holding a bag of handmade food his mother sent him, doesn't know what to take in first.

Zitao's dark, red rimmed eyes filled with every kind of pain Han experienced when he was still sick. The knife in one hand, the point pricking his skin. The small pool of blood forming at his feet.

Thank goodness he had come as soon as he could because he might have been too late.

"Zitao..." Han speaks, having found his voice. "What are you doing with that knife?"

"I-it's nothing, Han-ge," Zitao trembles like a scared puppy. "It's just..."

"Nothing?" Han repeats. "Nothing? You're expecting me to believe you when you have a knife in your hand? And you're not in the kitchen either..."

Everything starts falling in place. Zitao refusing to come near any type of blade; Zitao refusing to take a shower alone without his manager or Han himself standing outside. Zitao holding onto Han's hand when climbing up stairs even though Han himself was terrified of heights.

"Don't tell me you were going to..."

The knife falls out of Zitao's hand; small droplets of blood spraying onto the bottom of Zitao's designer jeans. Han drops the bag and looks helplessly as Zitao's legs buckle and he falls onto the floor, backing away from the knife.

Zitao cries and cries until his face his distorted and the tears can no longer come out.

 

 

 

 

A cellphone plays its ringtone of cellos backing up Chinese lyrics. A figure sits up on his elbows and groggily slides his finger to the left side of the screen.

"Hello? Han, it's like two in the morning..."

"Listen Yifan. I know that what Zitao said was immature and yes a little stupid, but it's about time you came over or gave him a call too. The only person he really listened to was you - and hopefully he still does."

"What do you mean by that?" Yifan properly sits up, a bit more attentive. "What did he do?"

"He's broken, Yifan. He cried himself to sleep an hour ago and it took me forever to get him on the bed. Not to mention...depressed - I caught him pricking himself in the wrist with a knife yesterday night."

Silence.

"Yifan, you still here? Yifan? _Yifan_!"

 

 

 

 

 

"Where is he when you need him?" Han grumbles to himself, applying the last of the antiseptic onto Zitao's wrist. Zitao tries to protest when Han flicks the tender part of his arm. "Don't give me any excuses - your wrist was bleeding and the only thing you can get bleeding from malnutrition is the lips. Plus you had a knife in your hand. Now stay still."

Zitao sniffs but obeys Han's orders, letting the older wrap a cotton bandage around his wrist.

When the end of the bandage is tucked in, the phone rings. Zitao shakes his head when Han gets up.

"Relax, Zitao - you don't know who it is," Han tells him, picking up the receiver.

Han blinks once, then twice. "How did you find out his number?" Zitao recognizes the deep voice on the other end and shrinks into the sweater Han made him wear.

Yifan.

 

 

 

"Zitao, Yifan wants to speak to you." Han holds out the phone. Zitao again shakes his head - he doesn't deserve talking to Yifan, no matter how sorry he was.

Especially after what he said.

"Zitao, he saw it himself. How you were sorry in the interview. And Yifan doesn't hold grudges - he's forgiven me, so why not you?" Han's voice is gentle, almost mother-like but Zitao doesn't say anything. "Come on - he doesn't have long. He needs enough sleep for his filming today."

With trembling fingers, Zitao takes the phone. "H-hello? This is Z-Zitao."

"I know that, Zitao," comes Yifan's voice. Zitao can easily detect the irritation in his tone and cowers internally. "Han told me what you've been doing as of late. For goodness sake, what were you thinking?"

"You're...mad, aren't you?"

"Why wouldn't I be mad? First thing I hear is that you're sorry for the past, and then the next thing I hear from Han is that you were trying to kill yourself yesterday." The blunt manner Yifan delivers those words reminds Zitao of the days Yifan would remind him not to get carried away when Zitao bristles at questions made by the MCs.

"Why didn't you tell anyone? Why not your parents? Han checks on you everyday like there's no tomorrow...Look," Yifan's voice lowers, "do you need to talk to me? I can come over and bring something for you to eat. You still like the sushi I bought for you, right? I'll just tell my manager that I'll be a little late for my schedule."

 

 

Zitao cries again.

 

 

A small, venomous part of Yifan urges him to cling onto the negative feelings.

Maybe he does want to - but old habits die hard.

He makes sure Han goes off to finish the final cuts for his movie and lets Zitao press his cheek against his shoulder and softly pats his back. Like always.

Truthfully, he never hated Zitao for anything.

 

 

 

 _/Zitao, it's Junmyeon again. I've...heard everything from Han hyung. And Yifan hyung. Why didn't you tell me? Everyone's wanting to see you and is trying to persuade the manager to go to China. I feel like the worst lead - no, friend, brother, whatever you call me. I hope you get better./_  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
_/Remember that we all love you Zitao. Don't forget that./_  
  
  
  
  
 

The next day he gets another parcel; instead of the insulting words scrawled in Mandarin there's a whole jumble of Korean written all over the paper.

_We have a schedule in Japan so it looks like we can't come to China just yet. We found this really good shop near the hotel we're staying and everyone payed for it. And please, please keep away from knives - we don't want our Zitao to be covered in scratches because, well, they don't suit you._  
  
  
  
  
  
For the first time in weeks, months, Zitao smiles in spite of his bloated face and teary eyes.  
  
  
  
  
_Maybe he never was alone in the first place._


	3. 10 Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonghyun couldn't help but marvel that despite ten years having passed, he could still fit into skinny jeans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date Written: April 8 2015  
> Genre: Friendship  
> Disclaimer: Don't own anything here - except for my fantasies  
> Author's Note - Based off a 'prompt' - Jonghyun once said in an interview or something that 10 years later, he'll dress up in skinny jeans and dance to SHINee's debut song '누나 너무 예뻐'. Although this seems more appropriate for the 7th anniversary of SHINee's debut, this looks more from Jonghyun's perspective, and since he loves SHINee so much, I feel that it's appropriate to post this as a birthday present for him (I wish he could read it though).  
> Happy 25th Birthday, 종현!   
> UPDATE (09/01/2018): Although I wish to edit this story because of how I find it cringe-worthy, editing it would be ruining the Shawol I was in 2015, happily thinking of how SHINee would be together forever and always, unaware of the future that was to come.

May 25, 2018...

Jonghyun couldn't help but marvel that despite ten years having passed, he could still fit into skinny jeans.

His regular visits to the gym and healthy eating habits have paid off; not only in him developing his formerly skinny upper body (much to the delight of fan girls) to a much more muscular build, but also in being able to fit into a pair of black skinnies closely resembling the pair in the Noona, You're So Pretty music video.

He clipped a belt around his waist and examined himself in the full length mirror. Other than his dyed hair for the newest SHINee comeback, he looked identical to his appearance 10 years ago.

10 years ago, he was an 18 year old, eager to become a singer but unaware of the hardships that would follow the fragile path of an idol.

10 years ago, he met four other guys who would later form the boy group SHINee alongside him. They were all so young - Taemin with his infamous mushroom hair, Key on the road to becoming the diva he was today, Onew and his clumsiness that was now known as the 'Onew Condition' and Minho with his formerly introverted personality.

10 years ago, he vowed that he would dress himself in skinny jeans and perform their debut song to celebrate their becoming of SHINee. Of course, no one took that seriously - normally those who promise to do so either break up before they reach the 10 year mark or are just too embarrassed to sing a 10 year old song in 'old' clothes.

But he had to admit, it was hard trying to find those pieces of clothing because one, he wasn't exactly skinny and small enough to fit into the clothes of an 18 year old and two, they were now practically rare due to production having stopped ages ago. Plus, you can't exactly keep the stage clothes once you've done promotions for comebacks - they went back into the closet.

It was no easy task - he had to dig into Key's closet for a dusty, forgotten pile of fashion magazines and snuck off with them before Key could talk about the invasion of privacy in front of national television. He had looked at the music video a couple hundred times and went through page after page until he found five pictures resembling the look, including three that were actual pictures of debut SHINee.

(He could have gone online, but Onew had this unusual habit of checking the computer's history - yes, they all knew each other's laptop passwords. Don't ask why.)

Then he went to the styling noonas, the ones who had first applied their makeup and decided their outfits for them 10 years ago and asked them about what the type of brand, what type of design and what shade of brown the clothing was (he would have asked Key about the difference between sandy brown and caramel, but that would just ruin the surprise).

Luckily, there was a whole rack of said clothes and thank heavens that the company had gotten them in different sizes, including ones for a 28 year old man. He didn't question why on earth they were still there and why there were ones for an 28 year old - he was too caught up in his mini celebration. Wrapping the 'long-lost' jacket into a plastic bag, he ran to the dorm and hid it beneath piles of graphic t-shirts, checking on it every spare moment he had.

And now, he was all set. Taking one last look at his reflection, he headed into the living room, where the others were watching TV, his music player in hand. It was 100% guaranteed that he will be humiliated, recorded on a camera, and a member will blab about it by accident on a variety program, but Jonghyun didn't go back on his promises.

Especially ones that he made to SHINee himself.

Ignoring the stares and starts of surprise, he pressed play and started moving to the beat.

Sometimes, Jonghyun would be lying on his bed complementing on his life so far, and realize that he cared and loved SHINee a level deeper than he did with his own blood family.

Sometimes, Jonghyun would just decide to go on YouTube and look up on SHINee. There, he watched fan made videos that were basically clips that had him say how much he loved SHINee put together into this big 'series' that ran for 30:45 altogether.

Sometimes, Jonghyun would just take a moment to look up from his music and look at the others doing their own things with a small smile on his face.

And sometimes, Jonghyun would announce that he was proud to be known not as just Kim Jonghyun, not as the singer Jonghyun, nor as the Jonghyun in the entertainment world, but as SHINee's own member Jonghyun.

After Key's part before the chorus, Taemin smiled and got up, joining Jonghyun in the dance. The others quickly followed, with Key setting his camera on the stand, the red light blinking.

He couldn't help but let loose a goofy smile as his watery eyes looked at the others, their own faces smiling back and alive with laughter and nostalgia.

At the end of the song, Onew immediately stood in front of them, hands on his hips, Key style.

"Since Jonghyun has put so much effort into this, and since I have to go back to military duty tomorrow," Onew says, his normally kind, laughing face fixed into a serious look, showing why he was leader, "in two hours, all of us should find the clothes we wore in our debut and record ourselves on camera. OK?"

Nodding, the first one who spoke was Minho. "Hyung, where did you get the clothes?"

"Oh, on the third floor, in the storage room," Jonghyun answers.

Key grins and goes over to the bookshelf, taking out a black folder marked 'Touch Key's Folder, You're Dead'. He shook it in one hand and says, "Normally I don't let anyone see this, but this is an exception. This is - " - he opens it and points at the second page - "my personal fashion folder. It basically has the names of brands, designs and colours of all our stage clothes and of other groups. Looks like it'll come in handy - hey, Lee Taemin, wait for us!"

As the other three rushed out after the already disappearing Taemin, Jonghyun takes a moment to look at the picture frame on the shelf. There they were, 10 years ago as the debuting boy group SHINee, unaware that they'll take the world by storm and become like a family.

He kisses his fingers and presses them against the glass before running out, remembering to shut the door behind him.

The faces in the picture seemed to smile even wider today, Jonghyun thinks, but it was probably his imagination.

But he was sure that he'll sing Noona, You're So Pretty a thousand times to re-live the moment he came into the world with the rest of SHINee.

_"Hello, we are the shining SHINee!"_


	4. Roseate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As long as she smiles like she always does, he'll tolerate being alone for a little longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date Written: December 15 2015  
> Pairing: One-sided!Jonghyun/IU, mentions of Onew/Luna & Taemin/Naeun  
> Disclaimer: Don't own anything except the story! If I did, my pairings would all be legit and SM would have burned to the earth by now  
> A/N: Message from May 16th - I wish SHINee and IU a good year, that the 2015 comeback of 'Odd' may hit the charts and that IU may enchant us with another beautiful, meaningful song and music video. Well, SHINee has had a pretty good year, Odd had great success and Twenty-Three by IU was beautiful with awesome lyrics. Too bad she's wrapped in some stupid controversy made by some netizens.  
> Another late message - (Happy 22nd Birthday, Lee Jieun! Happy 4th anniversary, APink!)  
> Needed to write this to make up for me making such a half-hearted effort on APink's debut date (April 19 2015; drabbles based off APink quotes on Tumblr) and IU's birthday (May 16 2015; JongIU fic). And to satisfy my JongIU + TaEun + Lunew feels. More like JongIU, but eh, the others will be mentioned briefly.
> 
> UPDATE (09/01/2018): The last month or so has been extremely difficult for everyone who had loved Jonghyun of SHINee from up close and afar. Personally, I think I have gone past the stage where thinking about his unfortunate passing no longer makes me burst into tears, though I admit this event has made me re-evaluate several things. In truth, I had been wondering if it would be right of me to continue writing fan-fiction - especially as Jonghyun is no longer here and I had accidentally hurt a friend in the past by writing a Ladies' Code fanfiction about the passing of its two members. But I suppose Jonghyun can live through not just photos and videos, but through what I write. I feel like I want to share all my interpretations on this site now, no longer ridden by the fears I previously had about the low quality of my writing.
> 
> UPDATE (29/01/2018): After much consideration, I decided to move the chapter originally posted in "Keep Our Hearts Clear" to the "Modern Times/Twenty Sounds of A Flower" collection due to its pure romantic content. Please forgive me for how I had written this out of a desperation to have at least one pairing fulfilled, but this was something I had written when Jonghyun's smile could still be seen today, so it's like a part of me now.
> 
> UPDATE (21/10/2018): Now I've re-posted this on AO3 and thus, I want to keep everything in one "folder" of stories, so this is now part of the "Keep Our Hearts Clear" series again.

Jonghyun has only known Jieun for a minimum of two years, yet first thing in the morning he unlocks his phone sleepily to find a message from Jieun. A Soundcloud with a new guitar composition; a whole bunch of random lyrics plus typos; how her recent appearance on a show went.

Despite being opposite genders and in different classes - in Jonghyun's case they are - he always had some inferiority problems with solo artists - never was there a lull in conversation. Guaranteed by how Jieun tended to spill to him secrets not even Yoo Inna or Suji know, it was hard to not talk. By this point Jonghyun was pretty much Jieun's diary.

Most of the time it's music. They hum a tune while the other translates it into crochets, minims and quavers all linked together on paper. They would think of a word and then go into an in-depth discussion on how the sun could represent life and death.

Nowadays the conversation is mostly centered over Jieun receiving texts. Half the time her small face lights up with the type of joy Jonghyun can't replicate. _Can't replicate_ \- unusually he thinks of Jinki when those two words are linked together. A reference to voice, music, love life; Jonghyun is more popular internationally but Jinki is still one step ahead. Somehow. His voice is honey; his music appeals to all ages; he's even in a duo with Sunyoung, who happens to be his fellow labelmate as well as a loving girlfriend.

But he isn't jealous. It's not worth to let the small, burning emotion he has when Jieun tilts her head up to her boyfriend grow as it's petty and selfish. Kiha is a respectable, kind and mature man with laughter lines who's understanding when dates have to be cancelled. But it still exists, especially when Jieun rests her head on Kiha's shoulder and Jonghyun is left as the awkward third wheel who drinks Jieun's forgotten cup of caramel macchiato.

"When does your schedule finish?" Jieun asks when they have five minutes to spare before their next schedule. "It's been ages since we've hung out."

Jonghyun takes her hand, thick fingers holding thin. "What's with the sudden invitation?" he gently rubs a thumb over her middle and index finger. "We were in a small room for the last hour or so."

Jieun grasps his fingers, used to the skinship accompanying Jonghyun's friendship. "Recording doesn't count as hanging out, Jonghyun oppa. Take the offer or I'll ask Hyunwoo oppa."

Jonghyun can't resist. "Does this offer include Kiha-ssi?" Jonghyun has to ask in a low whisper. No one knew, except for the closest of Jieun's circle, that she was dating. Publicly she was single, and her position of having a boyfriend wouldn't be well received with or without the Eunhyuk picture scandal.

Jieun smiles slightly, squeezing his fingers - her silent method of communicating _yes._ "You don't mind, right?"

She asked the same question the days she started wearing more 'mature' clothes highlighting her figure - Jonghyun can't help thinking Jieun's normally quite conservative - and her love songs gained an extra edge. Similar to how Jonghyun had been with Sekyung, only Jonghyun had cologne and ironed linen shirts. He answered in a similar way a couple of months ago, a nod of agreement for the relieved smile she only gave him when seeking his approval.

He's not okay with it. Maybe it was because male friends are almost easily replaced by boyfriends and that Jieun will always 'side with Kiha' much like Naeun does with Taemin. Jonghyun would like to have a girlfriend himself yet it's not the same as playing pool with the others, speaking music with Jieun or writing a song for the listener who needed some assurance in this world. Jonghyun knows Jieun wouldn't forget him in favour of a _man_ but it's not the same.

It won't ever be the same with someone who is taller than Minho (taller than Jonghyun) and can make Jieun fall in love at first sight.

"No big deal. It's happened for several months now," he words in a deliberate way to Jieun though he knows she won't pick it up. She smiles and squeezes his fingers again before her manager whisks her off to the studio to record for her album.

Jonghyun simply smiles, a small little one which curls up the right corner of his mouth. He sits up, stretches so the bones in his upper back crack, and unlocks his phone to reserve the closest Starbucks for an hour.

Jonghyun knows even with promises of hanging out, he's still going to be alone.

But Jonghyun doesn't hate for no reason.

 

He never does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes from time of writing:  
> 1\. Lately I've been playing IU's Friday nonstop for IU's angelic voice, lovely mini duet and the guitar near the beginning. I searched up on the meaning of the music video and found the interesting message that the best friend will be kind of pushed to the side because the girl is waiting for the day she gets to see her boyfriend.  
> 2\. I chose this to be based on it since I found on October 8 that IU was in a relationship with some indie artist since 2013. It really stirred up the shallowly buried feelings I had about Sulli/Choiza but after a day of sulking, I decided to think happy thoughts. Like Jonghyun, being the sweetheart he is, is happy for IU's relationship. But being the shipper I am, I injected some JongIU stuff into it.  
> 3\. The title was based off how roseate is a rose colour or a name for birds with partly pink plummage. Researching on feather symbolism I found that pink feathers represent unconditional love. Obviously, despite Jieun's slight neglect of Jonghyun, Jonghyun still loves her. Originally 'roseate' was supposed to link to APink as they are represented by the colour pink, but then yeah...  
> 4\. I went into some major writing crisis/writer's block because that Z.TAO fic turned out a little too good and I feel like I have to write to that standard. Given how I have never written a proper 'romance' genre fic (I've always ended up deleting the ones that contain full on shipping zone) it was difficult writing this.


End file.
